Summer After Sixth
by HeadGirl07
Summary: Takes place during the summer after sixth year. Beginning with Neville, see what different characters think about and how they prepare for the rough year ahead. Rated T just incase for later chapters.
1. Neville

Neville had been sitting on his bed. He looked out his window. _Funny, a nice day when everything is so messed up… Well, suppose I should make the most of it, shouldn't I? _He knew his grandmother was making breakfast downstairs. He wished she wouldn't get up so early. Though it was nice to finally be up to her standards, praise _was _a nice change from her normal disappointment, she would often repeat his father and mother's feats. Normally he loved to listen to these stories. He would ask for her to repeat them when he was little. The list seemed endless, their achievements and childhood stories, but now in such a dangerous time he really didn't want to be given anymore ideas of how he could be killed.

Neville took his usual route when he wanted to avoid the kitchen and made his way outside. It was sunny with a cool breeze. Spreading out flat onto the grass, he thought about his friends and the D.A. All last year, he and Luna had been waiting for those galleons to heat up, to call them to another lesson. Hermione, that genius girl always helping him, had made those brilliant coins. He kept it with him at all times. Never was the coin to be mistaken for a real galleon. He improved tremendously when Harry was teaching. To finally achieve stunning and disarming! He never thought he would live to do that. Then again, he never was one for self confidence.

But everything had changed. He learned so much from his friends. That first year he learned to stand up for himself. Dumbledore even acknowledged it at the end of the year feast, ultimately giving Gryffindor the points they needed to win the house cup. He emerged from being the quivering, untalented, worried boy into the Gryffindor he was and would continue to progress to be. He would always remember that moment. Every year had its challenges yet he got through them.

Last year… Neville shuddered to think about it. The Dark Mark above the astronomy tower, that cursed barrier preventing him from helping his friends, Bill getting bit… and Dumbledore dead. Nothing could ever go wrong if Dumbledore was there but now that he was gone… _But no, _thought Neville, _We've still got a chance. The Order of the Phoenix is still here. And the D.A… surely Harry has to continue lessons now, given the circumstances? We can fight this! _He cheered at the thought. _With everyone behind us nothing can go wrong. We'll get through this somehow… We'll take down Voldemort and his Death Eaters! _His friends Ginny, Luna, Harry, Ron, and Hermione, they would never let him down. They would stick together, just like at the Ministry, just like last year, and pull through.

Soon Neville would be on that train for his final year at Hogwarts. He didn't like the idea of it being his last. Today, after breakfast, he would be going to Diagon Alley for school supplies. Maybe he'll see his friends at the shops. Surely they would still go to Hogwarts? After all, what place safer than Hogwarts with teachers guarding the school, thick walls and enchantments, and talented students. Safety in numbers, right? He longed to see them. The carriages with the thestrals, which he now knew were harmless, the classes, Herbology in particular, and the same adventures they would have, dangerous and otherwise, were to be expected and he was excited no matter what happened. Of course, the whole my-next-step-might-be-my-last-step thing really sucked. Then again, how was this situation any different than the others they've faced? _I've made it this far…_ _And Gran… she can take care of herself. _He smiled at the thought of her taking down bad guys with a single swoop of her wand. _They won't know what hit them._ _Nobody does with her anyway._

Figuring Gran was done with cooking, he leapt to his feet just as she yelled for him to come in. _Probably eggs and bacon again…_


	2. Luna

Putting down her brush and paint, Luna wiped the sweat from her brow. Taking the time to appreciate her work, she got off the scaffold, flopped down onto her bed, and looked at the ceiling. _Finally finished._ She grinned, looking at the faces staring back at her. All hand done, not a drop of magic was used, and it still turned out beautiful. All five of her friends would now be watching over her in her room.

Xenophilius Lovegood made his way upstairs. Peering into Luna's room he said, "The Plimpy soup is ready, love." He stared at Luna's ceiling. "Ah, what do we have here?" He walked across the blue carpet and lied down in the space next to Luna.

"They're my friends, daddy. Do you like it?" She looked at her father for a response.

"It's wonderful dear, wonderful. Just like your mother you are." He kissed her on the head.

"You always say that." Briefly she glanced at the picture of her and her mother on the bedside table.

"I wouldn't say it if it weren't true." He stroked her hair lightly. Getting off the bed, he kindly reminded her, "Remember to come down and eat, okay love? Come soon so it's still hot." He left her, walking down the stairs, his footsteps heard with every creek.

"Okay dad." She returned her gaze to the ceiling. It really did make a nice change from a blank canvas. She did not feel that hungry today, even though she had been working to finish this all summer long. Luna had sketched it out the summer before in order to get everything perfect, finding different color paints at the store plus brushes and everything else she needed. Figuring that her dad would probably call her again, she trooped downstairs as she took in the vapor of soup.

Luna went to the cupboard to get a bowl and the drawer for a spoon. She sat down next to her father who was already digging in, a glass of Gurdyroot infusion to the side. _Ravenous as always, _thought Luna, _He always works so hard on the paper. _"How's _The Quibbler _coming dad? Are they printed yet?" As she spoke, the printing press gave a loud wheeze, as if to respond.

Mr. Lovegood paused in his eating. "No, not yet." He sighed. Going over to the press and covering it with the nearest piece of cloth, he sat back down again in the wooden chair. Now the press was mildly muffled. "I still want to make positively sure I've got the right description on the…on the…"

"Blibbering Hundinger?"

"Yes, that. My, I'm getting rusty aren't I?"

"Of course not dad. How was the fishing for the Freshwater Plimpies? They taste better than normal."

"Well, seeing as we haven't had them for awhile, I suppose they had time to get bigger. Blew up about a quarter of their regular size I should think. Unless my eyes are going bad too…"

"Dad! You're not that old!" She giggled at her father, who already thought of himself as an old coot. "I don't suppose you've seen my butterbeer cap necklace? I seem to have misplaced it."

"Haven't left it at school?" Mr. Lovegood knew Luna normally took good care of her stuff but sometimes other kids had the nerve to take her things. He was always a little concerned but Luna would act positively carefree when he brought it up, saying that they all came back eventually.

"No, I had everything when I left."

"Hmm… It could have been the nargles in our mistletoe out in front."

"I'll check my room again. I've been moving stuff around so it might be buried somewhere."

"Okay then. So, who are your friends again? The ones on the ceiling?" Even though he appeared tired, he really was interested in Luna's friends. He seemed to repel people himself and just couldn't understand why…

"Harry, Ron, Ginny, Hermione, and Neville." Her voice was very bouncy as she stated each name.

"Ah."

"I don't think Ginny looked very pleased on the way back home, though. She isn't one to cry really, but she looked like she wanted to. Harry looked like he was trying to avoid her. Skittish. I hope they're okay. They looked terribly unhappy…"

"Yes, well, after Dumbledore's death who wouldn't be?"

Luna gave one of her dazed looks, not the normal kind but the one where she was deep in thought, not that she wasn't always in deep thought one way or another. This lasted for about a minute before she spoke again. "I suppose you were writing it up in the magazine then?"

"The funeral? Oh no," he replied. "There were going to be enough papers doing that. You've seen them of course."

"Mmm." She took another sip of soup.

"Oh, I forgot! The Weasleys' have invited us to their eldest son's wedding. Bill and Fleur, the girl from that tournament I think."

"Oh! Sun clothes then?" Luna didn't know that Ron and Ginny's brother was going to get married. At least, none of them ever mentioned it. Speaking of Ronald…

"If I'm not mistaken I think they've gotten together," stated Luna, speaking her thoughts. "They were being polite on the way home."

Mr. Lovegood looked at her daughter in confusion. He knew his daughter better than anyone but sometimes even he couldn't figure out her extravagant but usually ingenious thinking. "What?"

"Oh, nothing father… Nothing at all…" She stared off into space again. Her mind wandered to her friends. "I wonder how Neville's mimbulus mimbletonia is… and Trevor."

"Right then dear, I think I'll let the Weasleys know we're coming." Mr. Lovegood, distracted, left his daughter to her thoughts. "Make sure you get ready. We're going to get your school supplies today."

"Can we go tomorrow dad?" Luna asked. "I want the paint to be dry first and we can go get a present for the wedding tomorrow, when you're finished the article."

"Yes, yes… Right then, tomorrow." He wandered off to his office in the next room, muttering to himself. _He really is a wonderful father. I hope he'll let himself a goodnight's sleep tonight. _Luna looked concerned. _He worries about me but he doesn't take care of himself…_

_My sixth year at Hogwarts, _she thought. _I wonder when we'll get our O.W.L. results back… Has Ginny gotten hers?_ She forgot they were going to be delivered this summer. Nervously going up the stairs to her room, she waited on her bed by the window, looking for any signs of owls. She thought she wouldn't be tense when she got the results back this summer, but she was hoping for decent grades in most of her subjects. Luna was ready to go back to Hogwarts, back to see the real version of those faces on her ceiling. _Then again,_ she thought, _I'll see some of them at the wedding. That'll be delightful. _Since it was still kind of early, she decided to pick out her clothes for the wedding and, if the results hadn't come yet, to take a nap outside in the field of dirigible plums. 


	3. Viktor

Viktor had been flying on his broomstick all afternoon, windswept hair messy with sweat. Nevertheless, he fell back on his bed in the same position he collapsed in hours ago. He stared at the ceiling for a moment and sighed, not of relief or exhaustion, but a great, heavy, overworked sigh.

He was flying outside for a reason. Flying was second nature to him, so normally when he flew he thought about other things, like what he was having for dinner tonight, or what ludicrous things that fans wrote in their letters to him, or a certain clever girl…

But that was why he was flying this afternoon, to forget her. It wasn't working out. Rolling over onto his stomach, he picked up a faded letter, worn from the many times he folded and unfolded it, and stared at the miniscule, neat handwriting. He wanted to sigh again but knew it was useless. No point. He learned the hard way that there was no point in trying to change her mind. This did not make it easier for him of course. The letter had been dated around two Christmases ago, but was sent sometime after that coming New Year. He remembered picking it up from the owl and being excited to receive a letter from her. She normally wrote to him regularly. Hermione wrote long letters in comparison to his short, concise ones, ones that he knew used much less than her flawless English. Yet, normally, he received an immediate response. This letter was memorable since he hadn't heard from her since the end of that summer.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

_He opened it, identifying her handwriting, now very familiar to him. It seemed to take up the whole parchment. Sitting in the nearest comfy chair, he carefully opened it. One time he made the mistake of not being careful. This resulted in trying to lay the pieces of paper side by side in order not to miss a word she wrote. But then he hit himself on the head. He was a wizard wasn't he? With a flick of his wand, he repaired it._

_Successful in prying the letter out, he stared at the writing. _Doesn't she get cramps in her hand? _He shook his head in amazement. He brought it towards him and finally began to read._

_It started out the way it usually did, in small print. The usual greetings, hello, sorry I haven't written. She answered some of the questions he asked in their last correspondence. As he read, bobbing his head to an unknown rhythm, he paused at what she wrote. "I actually don't know how to say this. If I'm being honest to you, which I am I promise, I've been beating around the bush until now. But now to the point… why I haven't answered in so long."_ This seems a bit grim_, he thought. _She has never written like that before. _He continued on, oblivious. Again, Hermione "beat around the bush." He never understood that expression until he met her. He kept reading until he came to a quick and clear answer, the one he was looking for._

_"Viktor, I love someone else. It would be cruel for me to keep that from you. I'm so deathly afraid. Will you still like me after you read this? I still want you to be my friend. Please don't take this the wrong way. I do like you, but not the same way you like me. It's embarrassing to admit, but I did try to like you, really like you. I tried very hard. In the end, I knew I was just lying to myself. Someone already took my heart, though I know he doesn't know it himself. Viktor, I'm so sorry I'm not saying this face-to-face. I feel so bad. I want to make it up to you but I don't know how. Oh Viktor, please forgive me. Please say you'll still be my friend."_

_He could not go on. When he could finally think, Viktor translated what she was saying. _So she is breaking up with me. She likes someone else. She still wants to be friends. But there is someone else. _The thoughts came in quick, successive flashes. Each blow hurt like getting stung by angry bees. He threw down the letter onto the floor and stomped out of the room. He was not used to this feeling of rejection. He only knew of girls wanting him. But now that someone rejected him, someone he liked… He did not like the feeling. _

_He walked to the kitchen to get a glass of water to calm himself down. Viktor still felt like punching a wall, but he came back to the room and leaned down to pick up the letter he had not finished reading. The letter went on, begging his forgiveness. The next few lines did not lighten his mood. Instead of adding to his brewing anger, it sent him into a depressed, zombie-like state. "I'll understand if you don't write back," she wrote. "You can completely forget I exist if that makes it easier on you. I won't mind. You deserve someone better, you know. Not some bookworm like me. You'll make some girl happy, I know you will." _Silly girl, _he thought. _There is only one girl I want and that is you. _He stroked his chin where he let some stubble come up. He was growing a beard. _I could never forget that you exist even if I tried…

_Viktor waited a day to respond to her letter. He knew it would turn out sounding bitter if he answered her right away. He wrote her saying that of course he still wanted to be her friend. However, his feelings would not change, and if they did, would not in a long while. _

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He reread everything she wrote. Viktor shook his head. It was only now he could finally look at other girls, but they would never be the same as her. He accepted her decision with grace that usually was not common with Viktor. Hermione changed him in lots of little ways. He was a tad more patient, a little more understanding, and a touch more thoughtful. He was the same Viktor to everyone else but he knew he changed, if only by the smallest margin. If it had been any other girl that rejected him, he probably would have stormed up to her to demand who she liked and stalked after the guy like a serial killer. This brought him around to what he was trying not to think about. _Who is this guy she likes? What could he possibly have that I do not? Maybe he does not like her. _The last thought was a wistful hope. He thought of her face, miserable and heartbreaking, if the man she _did_ like didn't feel the same way. _Lucky man, for Hermione to fall in love with him. I wish I was in his place._

In deep thought, he heard his father come in with a swift stride into the room. In Bulgarian, his father relayed a piece of news to Viktor, and just as quickly left. Fleur was getting married and he was invited. He remembered their time at Hogwarts. They shared some things in common and stuck together as both were unfamiliar with the school. He wasn't very close to her, only a trifling friendship, but nonetheless pleased and quite happy to come. _You never know_, he thought,_ I might meet someone there…_

A/N: Did anyone ever wonder what Hermione wrote in that "novel" to Viktor during fifth year? Anyway, I've been trying to alternate on gender so a girl will be next. Thank you for reading! (Despite my habit of long break periods) :D

* * *


	4. Ginny

She didn't know what to think. She didn't know what to do. What could she do? She was helpless.

To think about him was painful. Not to worry for his safety was unnatural. She could only imagine what Hermione and Ron were going through. But they were used to going through this kind of stuff. They were _always _with him, his partners in crime, his best friends. She knew Harry cared for her just as much as them, if not exactly in the same way, but sometimes she couldn't keep the thought out of her head, couldn't resist arriving to the conclusion and asking herself questions. Was she good enough? What makes them better, more qualified than her, to accompany him on his mission? She stayed by him at the Department of Mysteries, defended herself, proving she was capable of handling everything, anything.

But Ginny was not stupid. Luna and Neville were with them, against Harry's initial decision, and they were not going with him this time. Only Ron and Hermione, his trusted friends and advisers.

Ginny, being a better than average but often overlooked witch, knew Harry better than that. He did not see people in the same way as others. The way he saw it, everyone was either in two categories, those to protect and those to fight against. Anyone he cared about fell under "protect." Ginny fell into this category, and so did Ron and Hermione. Anyone without a good reason to be doing whatever they were doing fell under "fight against," like, for example, Rita Skeeter. However, as terrible as Rita was, some were worse.

Voldemort was the sole reason for all this terror, all the insecurity and distrust, all the violence, and most importantly, the deaths of innocent people, people who died too soon. He did so much, like tearing people apart, like keeping Harry away…

But she should move on. If he lives… well, he didn't really dump her, did he? Not really… Not for any other reason but to protect her. If he doesn't… but she wouldn't think on it. She couldn't allow herself to think on it. She swore that last night was the last time she would soak her pillow in a flood of tears. She forbade it. She had to be strong for everyone and herself. And Ron… her brother. What if she lost her brother? Well, her whole family was already in danger. He's not in that much more danger than anyone else… Yet he does it willingly, knowingly. Ron, the youngest… _He's so loyal. My dumb, loyal, loving brother. I hope they bring enough food._ And Hermione would be with him. A smile escaped from her. _Those two…_ _They'll be stuck in a tent together… with no adult supervision. But Hermione will take care of the boys, just like she would take care of me…_ When Ginny met Hermione for the first time, she was a bit shocked at how confident she appeared. Her intelligence went unquestioned. Now that Ginny knew her, it wasn't so much about confidence; Hermione could be quite insecure at the best of times. One day, when they were alone, Hermione admitted to her that she would be extremely different if it weren't for Harry and Ron. She only seemed confident because she knew her friends were behind her. Ginny always looked to her for guidance, saw her as a sister since she didn't have any of her own. _Hermione will take care of them._

His birthday. It was coming up soon. Ginny had no idea what to get him. _Something small, so he can take it with him, _she thought. But she rethought that. _I don't want to add to his load. Even if it was small, I wouldn't want him to take something that wasn't necessary. But what to give him? Something special. I love him so much… _After more thinking, she decided she would kiss him. She didn't care if he "broke up" with her. Her feelings hadn't changed and she knew his hadn't. He can at least allow her that…

And the wedding! She grimaced. Out of all people… Bill proposed to Fleur. Phlegm rather. She was nice enough… just ended up soaking all the attention. And it wasn't her fault, Ginny knew, but her airy manner was. She just didn't like her, as of now anyway. If Bill really loved her, then she could deal with it. She could deal with her oldest brother's airy-fairy wife.

_This year I'll be in sixth year. _The thought astounded her._ I wonder when O.W.L. results come back…_ Finally, Ginny lifted her head. Looking out the window she did spot, in the distance, a tawny owl carrying an envelope. It could only be hers. She checked the clock. Almost lunch time. Sooner or later her mother would call her down, she would have to see Fleur again, she would have to help out with the cleaning for the wedding. _But we're all still fighting, _she thought. _Still fighting._


End file.
